


If it's not Jos Buttler, I don't want him. (Apparently.)

by j_obsessed



Series: NSFW... approach with caution (or a lust for cricketers) [8]
Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Hand & Finger Kink, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Joe is a Bit Stupid, Jos is a Bit Sad, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Bites, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Relationship Discussions, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed
Summary: So. The idea is, that Joe is in an established relationship. And then he's not. Because sometimes, it turns out, men suck.Jos fixes it. In more ways than one. 👀
Relationships: Eoin Morgan/Ben Stokes/Mark Wood, Joe Root/Others, Jonny Bairstow & Jos Buttler, Jonny Bairstow/Chris Woakes, Jos Buttler & Ben Stokes, Jos Buttler & Chris Woakes, Jos Buttler & Eoin Morgan, Jos Buttler/Joe Root (developing)
Series: NSFW... approach with caution (or a lust for cricketers) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887832
Comments: 31
Kudos: 18





	1. Jos is a good... friend, okay?

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is angsty, and a bit sad, and such.  
> Second chapter is mostly smut, but, it's quite soft and loving- still nasty tho, cause it's ✨me✨

Jos is currently at Ben’s place, with Chris and Jonny, chilling around the fireplace, nursing a beer. Just the one, because he’s got to drive himself back to his place tonight, but he’s enjoying himself nonetheless. He’s relaxing, chatting to Ben about their last series, and the taller ginger’s magnificent 100 against South Africa.

Ben’s laying back on the outdoor couch, feet propped up in Jos’ lap as Chris is curled into Jonny in the armchair just next to them. The yorkie and his boyfriend are listening intently, occasionally leaning over to peck each other on the cheek.

( _‘Cheek’_ may not be the most accurate description, as Jonny is intentionally turning his head so that Chris will ‘accidentally’ brush his lips, and Chris will tilt his head to ‘look’ at Jos, so the ginger will ‘accidentally’ bite his neck.)

Jos and Ben do _not_ roll their eyes.

It’s quiet, and peaceful, and it’s nice for the four of them to get together like this, just to chat and be in a place where they aren’t under constant scrutiny from the cameras and the commentators and… well… everyone.

Jos clears his throat slightly, and says something that causes the peace to slightly shatter. “Joe went out tonight.”

Jonny gives Jos a look. It’s not like a ‘we know, you’re an idiot’ look. Nor is it a ‘yes we have all known for ages’ look. His fellow keeper looks _shocked._

“Out as in…?” he says, trying to understand if Jos is actually being serious.

“As in on a date. With his new boyfriend.” Chris says, sighing unhappily.

Ben does _not_ fall off the couch. He doesn’t. (He totally does.) “Joe. Went out. On a date. With his _boyfriend._ That isn’t Jos?”

“Yes. I’m not his boyfriend. This is not new.” Jos affirms, before letting out a barely audible sigh and tipping the bottle back to his mouth. “We weren’t dating. Just messing around.”

“Joe. Joseph Root. Went out on a _date._ With his _boyfriend.”_

Jos nods again. “Fifth one with this guy. Damien? I think it is?”

Jonny chokes on… air? Jos thinks it’s air, _might have been Chris’ tongue though, who really knows with those two._ Jos looks up and nope, it was the air, because Chris has his face in his palms, muttering ‘he’s counted the dates they’ve been on, oh my fucking god you have got to be kidding me.’

Jos ignores him.

Ben still looks insanely confused. As if nothing that’s just been said has made any sense to him. It may as well have been spoken in Klingon. “Uh. What? Wait. _Chris!?_ You knew?”

“Yeah, uh, he sort of like, announced it the other day at training?”

Jonny looks like he’s seen a ghost. Jos just raises his bottle in a sort of ‘that’s one hell of a reaction’ and takes another drink. His fellow wicketkeeper is looking at him very strangely. Because, although Jos does look… _disconcerted_ , he doesn’t seem like he’s entirely too affected, or heartbroken. It is awfully confusing. The Brummie is looking at the blonde with extreme amounts of adoration and understanding though, and Jonny has clearly missed something.

Chris leans over to his boyfriend and says, “Joe’s had some trouble with relationships in the past. Jos has never pushed him to commit, for that exact reason. He’s just always been by his side. Or like, plastered against his side. He’s probably happy that Joe is happy.”

And as usual, Chris is right. Because seconds after he’s said it-

“I’m happy for him. If he’s happy, then I’m okay. It’s nice that he’s found someone he trusts.”

Jonny looks at Jos, blinking with a very disbelieving expression. And then he looks at Chris, who is again looking at his friend with a very soft smile. “That’s very sweet of you Jossy, Joe’s lucky to have you.”

Jos smiles at the brunet, with a gentle “thanks Chris, that means a lot.”

Ben has his face in his hands and is shaking his head as though he’s having a crisis.

“Okay, I hate to be the one to do this, but, you obviously like him Jos.”

“That’s not exactly a secret Ben, he’s my best friend.”

_“Oh for the love of fuck.”_

Jos raises an eyebrow.

“Do I really need to spell this out for you.”

Chris sends the taller ginger a glare, but Ben is completely and utterly undeterred.

“Don’t look at me like that Chris, they fuck like, six times a week, I cop an earful from Joe almost everytime we meet. He calls him _daddy.”_

Jonny starts coughing violently, and Jos smirks at him, raising his bottle again, and Chris is almost on the floor, he's laughing that hard.

“Jos. You love him. We can all see it. Why won’t you just tell him?”

“Because he has a boyfriend.”

The three boys look at each other, heads turning from one to the other as though watching a tennis match between Djokovic and Nadal.

_He didn’t deny it._

_Of course he didn’t deny it._

_Jonny you don’t understand- he didn’t deny that he’s in love with Joe._

_Wait-_

_Oh my fucking god._

Jos continues calmly sipping his beer.

“So that’s just it then?”

“Ben, it’s not a revelation. I’ve always loved him, but if I’m not the one he wants, I’m not going to stand in the way of him being with someone that he does.” Jos places his hand on the taller ginger’s ankle, giving him a genuine smile.

“That’s why you’re here tonight.” Jonny says, unknowingly breaking the moment.

“What?”

“It’s Friday. You’re supposed to be at movie night with Joe. But he’s on a date. With his boyf-” The ginger keeper can’t even finish the word, as he screws his face up in disgust, “with his date.”

Jos tries to stop himself from laughing, and only just manages. Ben does poke his thigh with his foot though. “Yeah, it’s okay. He got ready at my place, we rain checked for Tuesday.”

Chris nearly falls off Jonny’s lap. “He got ready. At _your_ place.”

“You all seem awfully surprised. We’re best friends, I’m not going to fucking kick him out of my apartment because he’s going on a date with someone that’s not me.”

“Jos for the love of god please tell me you didn’t pick his outfit,” Jonny laughs, before glancing at Jos’ face and realising that is exactly what the blonde keeper did.

“You’re either too good for this world, or too stupid, and I can’t decide which one I’m leaning towards.”

Jos hurls a cushion at Jonny’s head, who’s expression even has _Chris_ in stitches. “I’m being a good friend Bairstow, shut up.” There’s a begrudging smile on his face though, and he’s appreciative of the fact that his friends are backing him up, even if he is _genuinely_ happy for Joe.

“So does he just like, not have eyes or-”

“Benjamin Stokes. Do not be rude,” comes a reprimanding voice, as Eoin strolls into the backyard and drops himself against Ben, backing himself up against his boyfriend’s body, and putting his feet in Jos’ lap too. Jos gives his calf a soft squeeze. “Who doesn’t have eyes?”

The blonde keeper snorts, before answering, “Joey. And hey Morgs, Mark on the plane yet?”

The Irishman looks extremely surprised. Yeah, apparently, that’s the mood today.

“Yeah, he just boarded, I’m glad I went to drop him off, he seemed a little nervous. Hang on, isn’t it Friday? You shouldn’t be here.”

“We’ve had this discussion already Morgs,” Chris points out.

“Well _I_ wasn’t here for it,” Eoin retorts. The two burst out laughing. “Someone fill me in?”

“Joe has a boyfriend.”

“JOS! HOW IS THAT NOT WHAT YOU OPENED WITH. IT’S ABOUT TIME!”

“Ah, Morgy, that’s where you’re mistaken.”

The Irishman would have also fallen from the couch, had Ben’s arms not been securely around his waist.

“I’m sorry, _WHAT!?”_

“Do none of you listen at training? Joe’s dating some guy named Damien.”

“What the _fuck._ Chris please, _please_ fucking tell me you’re joking.”

Jos sighs, and unlocks his phone, showing his limited-overs captain the photo Joe sent him about an hour ago.

Eoin thumps his head back into Ben’s chest and lets out an exasperated scream. “JOSEPH ROOT YOU FUCKING IDIOT.”

“HEY!” Jos yells, before biting his tongue and lowering his volume. “Sorry. He’s not an idiot.”

Chris coos, pushing his lips together in fondness. Bairstow facepalms. Ben groans. And Eoin-

“Nope you’re right. Absolutely. You’re the fucking idiot.”

“Jos is just being a good friend Morgs, you can’t help who you love.”

Jonny hurriedly cups his hand over Chris’ mouth. _“Babe!”_

“Fuck. Sorry Jossy.”

Jos, once again, doesn’t even flinch, just takes a sip of his alcohol and shakes his head, unbothered. “Morgs knew.”

“Anyone with eyes knew.”

“That was my point, but no, apparently, I’m _rude.”_ Ben makes a face, and Eoin turns around to kiss him.

“You’re a hell of a better lad than I am Jos,” Jonny says, wrapping his arm tighter around Chris.

“Nah. Not at all. I just want him to be happy.” Jos’ voice doesn’t even change. The tone isn’t even the slightest bit hurt. Doesn’t sound like he did, when he was told he was dropped from the test team, understanding but utterly gutted. He’s just, accepting. Eoin lets go of Ben and curls into his side. “Alright alright, enough, I’m okay, come on, let’s play beer pong.”

His teammates, bless their souls, don’t deny him. If Jos has friends like this, how can he be upset?

They set up quickly, occasionally bantering, sledging and picking their teams, accompanied by some hip checks and shoulder checks as they go about it. Eoin lands his in the first go, and Jonny, bless the lad, hits Chris in the face somehow, Jos hides his laughter into Ben’s shoulder.

As Jos lines up for his shot, his phone rings loudly, making Chris jump.

“Shit, sorry. Hang on.” Jos fishes his phone out, dropping the ball in Ben’s hand. “Ah. It’s Joey, I’ll- Uh, yeah.”

Jos takes the call right there, in front of his friends, albeit a little to the side. Eoin sighs as Ben takes the blonde keeper’s turn, tugging Chris toward him so they can… ~~eavesdrop~~ _politely catch any bit of conversation they can between their two Josephs._

_Jos? Are you at home?_

_No Joey, I’m at Ben’s place, what’s wrong, do you need me to come get you?_

Chris clutches at his chest and Eoin drops his head onto the Brummie’s shoulder.

_No, it’s fine, just wanted to know-_

_Joey. Where are you, I’m coming to get you._ Jos has already half got his coat on, and is stuffing his wallet into his back pocket.

_No, I’m in an Uber on my way home, but I don’t have the keys._

_The keys to my place?_

_Yeah, home._

Eoin looks at Chris, and says, probably louder than he was supposed to, “are you fucking kidding me?” Chris throws his hands aside and shakes his head.

_Alright, how far are you? I’ll be home in fifteen if I leave now._

_About twenty, I’m coming back from Salford._

_What, why were you there?_

_Uh, I went back to his place._

_Oh. Right._

Chris drops his glass (it’s plastic, thank fuck) and Jonny looks up immediately. 

_Sorry to bother you Jos._

_Not a problem, see you soon._

“Oh Jos,” Chris has crushed him into a hug immediately, and Ben is patting his shoulder.

“It’s okay, what are you all consoling me for- _oh, you heard, right._ I’m not upset, goodness. I guess you won’t be bothered by the headboards now, at least.” Eoin cringes and Jonny’s face looks utterly dismayed “Come on, I’ve got to go, he’s probably exhausted. I’ll see you guys on Monday right? We’re doing training?”

He gets a chorus of nods, before he waves a quick goodbye and bolts out the door. He reaches home before Joe, and is midway through removing his jacket when the doorbell rings.


	2. I can't help falling in l-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So. It's not my usual style of smut, but, it's fluffy, and a little dirty, but mostly fluffy, with a little bit of jealousy and some mentions of cheating, but of course not on each other- you'll see what I mean if you decide to read... I hope, this lives up to everyone's expectations 😅 I've been a bit stressed about posting it, but, hopefully, you enjoy!

Jos opens the door, expecting, well... he doesn’t really know what he expected. But. It wasn’t this.

Joe storms into the apartment, and throws his bag on the floor angrily. “FUCK THIS.”

The keeper immediately takes on a defensive stance, alert and aware and absolutely ready to break someone in half if necessary, even if it’s not needed actually, he’s in a bit of a mood. “Joey!? Is everything okay? Do I need to call someone? Do I need to _hit_ someone?”

“I FUCKING HATE MEN!”

“Oh.”

Joe sighs. “Not you, darling.”

Jos smiles softly down at his feet before looking back at his best friend. “What happened? Wait. If you went back to his place why didn’t you stay, I could’ve brought you clothes-”

“Is it okay if I just…”

“You can tell me whatever it is Joey, I’ll listen.”

“He was shit.”

“Like… at sex? Surely-”

“FOR FUCKS SAKE JOS ALL HE DID WAS SHOVE HIS DICK IN ME. HE DIDN’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT HOW I WAS FEELING. HE DIDN’T EVEN TAKE CARE OF ME AFTER IT. WHY ARE MEN SO DIFFICULT?!”

Oh. Well. Jos blinks, taken aback and a little too enthusiastic at the idea that he’s actually going to have to go and rip this man limb from limb, because how fucking _dare he_. From his stance at the doorway, he does a quick three-second check of his best friend. Joe’s lip is bitten and slightly swollen, but his shirt looks untouched, and he’s walking fine. He does, however, look very, very angry. Livid even.

Jos grimaces, as Joe sheds off his jacket furiously, pulling his shirt aside to display _two_ red marks on his skin in the circular mirror hanging against the wall. The taller blonde looks at the mirror from a few metres back, face screwing up in disgust as the marks come into view. Red and purple, harsh and… _intimately placed._

Jos _hates_ them. They make his fucking skin crawl, and he has the inexplicable urge to hit this Damien son of a bitch like the man’s a fucking punching bag at his local gym.

The skin hasn’t been broken, but there are _marks._ And they’re prominent. More importantly, Joe looks uncomfortable and unhappy, and Jos, for all his level-headedness, wants to eviscerate the person who’s hurt his ~~Joey~~ erm… his _best friend_. Joe’s pressing his fingers into the marks- wincing as his fingertips make contact with the skin. Jos feels something lurch in his stomach, but he forces himself to keep his mouth shut.

“He didn’t even fucking try, I didn’t even get off, it was fucking embarrassing. He didn’t compliment my outfit, he didn’t tell me I looked nice, he didn’t even kiss me Jos. I dressed up for nothing. I thought I looked _good_ tonight. I tried so hard to look nice.”

The keeper can’t even help the expression of disgust that flies over his face.

“He didn’t even take off my shirt before he tried to fuck me, and he only used a single finger to prep me, for not even two fucking minutes, I swear. And through it, it felt as though I was, like, mentally writing my fucking grocery list. He didn’t use his mouth at all, and I had to force him to use protection, and- FUCK’S SAKE IM NOT EVEN THAT TURNED ON IM JUST FUCKING MAD!”

Jos, before he can tell himself _no,_ has grasped Joe’s chin delicately and stared right into his eyes. Joe’s breath has hitched immediately, and now Jos can see the marks close up and he really really _loathes them._

_Enough that he wants them off Joe’s skin right now._

The thought scares him a little. But Joe’s looking up into his eyes, and the younger blonde’s irises are flicking down to his mouth every few moments, and Jos wants to fucking ruin him the way he always does. Treat him the way he deserves to be treated. Fuck him so good that Joe forgets about this asshole of an unsatisfying lover. _Fuck him so good_ that all the remnants of Damien on Joe’s skin are obliterated.

He tilts his head very slightly to the left, and says “do you want me to fix it, baby?”

Joe breathes hitches, and his throat constricts. He’s almost begging, and Jos hasn’t even fucking done anything yet, and this is what he’s wanted _all fucking night,_ for his partner to just give him a look, that makes him fall to his knees. Jos is glancing over him, flicking his tongue over his lip like he wants to maul him, and Joe has never wanted anything so bad in his entire fucking life.

And now, he’s starting to realise, all the mistakes he’s made. Jos is brushing his thumb over the two marks Damien’s made at his chest, and Joe wants him to bite over them, get rid of them, mark him over them- because if the marks aren’t from Jos, he doesn’t fucking want them.

“How do you want me to fix it, sweetheart? What can I do for you? How do you want me to treat you? What do you need?”

Joe can’t even think straight, being this close to him. It’s like his brain shuts down. No one’s ever going to be able to get him the way Jos does. It’s the way he always asks, no matter how long they’ve been fucking each other. Jos still fucking asks him.

_What can I do for you?_

It’s always about him. Jos will ask what he wants, how he wants to be pleased.

_How do you want me to treat you?_

It’s always about him. Joe’s blindsided by just how good sex with Jos always feels. And how, apparently, it doesn’t feel like this with anyone else. It almost hurts to think about.

No one will ever feel the same, because Jos knows how to touch him. Like subtle presses of fingertips against pulse points, comforting hands that grip with just enough force, gentle brushes of lips and controlled rhythmic teases of hips.

Jos’ grip on his chin is firm as ever, but the calloused thumb stroking his jaw is undeniably soft. “Baby? Would you like me to pile up some blankets for us? Should I put on a movie, we can pretend this night never happened. I can run you a bath, and get you some clean clothes. I’ll take care of you, Joey, just tell me how. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

-

Joe’s heart is going to explode. “I want you. Get him off me. _Please.”_

There’s a moment, where Jos doesn’t do anything, and Joe realises he’s being made to think twice about his choice. Jos is refusing to take advantage of him. Refusing to do anything if he’s not one hundred per cent in.

“Jos, _please._ I want _you._ I’m sure. Please fix it.”

The keeper fists a hand in his shirt, shoving him back against the wall, and Joe’s already half gone. “You look gorgeous, darling. Showstopping.”

“Apparently not gorgeous enough,” Joe sighs, and Jos decides right at that moment, that he’s going to make this right.

From the beginning to the end. He’s going to compliment the fuck out of Joe while he tears this outfit off his body, tell him how pretty he is and how beautiful his eyes are. He’s going to kiss him until he’s dizzy with it. Until Joe’s eyes roll back and the younger boy is moaning into his mouth, unable to do anything but be held and be cherished. He’s going to coat his fingers properly, and use them until Joe is begging for more, begging to be full of him, and he’s going to kiss all over the younger’s gorgeous body, before fucking him into a plush mattress like he _deserves._

“Apparently and definitely yes.” And when Joe blushes and Jos leans forward to kiss his cheek lovingly, they’ll both maintain that it’s a friendly gesture. “You’re so _pretty_ Joey. You always look so beautiful. _But this shirt.”_

Jos says it with so much conviction that Joe believes him.

“I love the way it matches your eyes. I love your smile, and how you bury your face in your hands sometimes to stop people from seeing it, but you never do with me. I love the way your ass looks in these jeans. Fucking _ripped_ jeans. I want to rip them _off_ you. I love how your hair is a little longer, and how perfectly it entangles in my fingers like it’s begging me to tug it. I don’t know how anyone could look at you, and not think you’re the most beautiful thing to exist.”

Jos presses his lips to Joe’s neck, burrowing his face there as he lavishes attention all over the younger’s skin. He doesn’t bite. No. But somehow, it’s more intimate than that.

The keeper runs the tip of his nose down the side of Joe’s throat and then peppers closed-mouth kisses back up to his jaw. “Your skin is so soft. I love kissing you. Doesn’t matter where. Whether it’s here at your temple, at your cheek, or at the cut of your jaw. Just at your pulse point, millimetres from your jugular, or over your beautiful collarbones. At the supple flesh of your stomach, or the smooth expanse of your thighs. You always feel so good under my mouth, sweetheart. I could spend days doing it. Mapping out every little freckle on your skin, every scar, every blemish.”

Shivers rack Joe’s entire body, as plush, chapped lips make their way over his flesh, leaving goosebumps in their trail.

Using careful hands, Jos rucks Joe’s shirt up over his head, holding the garment between his fingers as he leans forward to kiss the younger’s jaw. He half folds the shirt, before dropping it onto the foyer table cautiously. Joe looks at him quizzically. “It’s one of your favourites,” Jos says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He covers the two marks on Joe’s clavicle with his palm (not really wanting to remember that someone else has had Joe tonight) as he brushes his mouth against the younger’s shoulder again.

And now, Joe’s reminded of how he’s got someone else’s marks on him. And how he _hates them._

“Jos- _Jos,_ please bite me, _please, cover them. I don’t like them. Get them off me.”_

“Joey. You’ve never wanted me to… Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Please Jos, I don’t want to remember it. I don’t want his claim on me.” The keeper nods softly against his skin, understanding, and Joe sighs in relief, tipping his head back against the wall. “ _Thank you.”_

Slowly, very slowly, so that Joe has time to change his mind if he wants to, Jos closes his mouth over the marred flesh. Something flares in him, when he realises that the skin tastes _foreign._ He pulls away immediately, flicks his tongue against his thumb, and brushes the digit over the flesh again.

“You don’t have to, of course, it’s not, I wasn’t-”

“No. I- I don’t like that he had his teeth on you, I don’t like that he had his mouth on you.” Jos lets out, between gritted teeth. “I know I’m not supposed to say that. But. _I don’t like it.”_

“Don’t care. You’re right. I don’t like it either. _Please.”_ Joe pushes his shoulder forward, protruding the bone, and Jos groans softly, skimming his tongue over it, repeatedly, until he’s satisfied that the flesh tastes _right-_ before he bares his teeth and plunges them over the mark. The cry that Joe lets out is fucking _glorious._

“Can- can I bite you in other places too? Can I use my mouth on you? Will you let me? _Please_ will you let me?”

“Y-yeah. Yes. God yes. If it’s you. I want it. Mark me.” 

“If you want me to stop. You tell me. Push me off you. I’ll understand. I want this to be good for you. I always want it to be good for you,” he says, before dragging his teeth to the centre of Joe’s throat, and sinking his canines deep into the hollow of it. Joe’s hands scrabble for purchase at the wall, and Jos quickly moves them to his back, letting the younger sink his nails into the expansive muscle. “You can mark me, baby. I want to remember you too.” 

Joe digs his nails into the toned flesh, _hard._ Clutching at the opportunity with both hands.

Jos spends the better part of ten minutes, laving his tongue and teeth over Joe’s upper body, covering the canvas with an array of blemishes, that will be visible in the morning. _Probably for the next few mornings._

Joe can’t help realising that he wants that. He wants to wake up with the reminder that Jos’ teeth were breaking his skin last night, that he fell asleep tucked tightly in Jos’ arms, that he belongs with J-

_Crap. Shit. Fuck._

Slowly, Jos links their fingers together and walks them to the floor-to-ceiling mirrors of his wardrobe in his bedroom. He turns Joe to the glass, stepping behind him and nipping at his ear, hands fluttering over his ribs. “Is that better?”

Joe drops his head back against the keeper’s shoulder, whimpering softly in approval as Jos flicks his tongue generously over one of the marks. “ _Yes, thank you, daddy.”_

Something squeezes around Jos’ heart as he pulls the younger to him once again, looking into his eyes. “Did you call him _daddy_ too? Did he ask you to? Did you want to?”

“No. I didn’t. I didn’t want to. That’s a you thing.”

Jos breathes out in relief, tucking his face against Joe’s shoulder, kissing over the reaffirmed marks, content with the way that there’s no trace of anyone left on Joe’s skin- _except for him._

“You sound almost as beautiful as you look. Beautiful and precious and gorgeous and I could hear you beg for me forever and I still wouldn’t get enough. Did he appreciate how gorgeous your voice sounds when you’re whispering broken pleases and thank yous?”

 _“N-No-”_ Joe chokes out, as Jos wraps his fingers slowly around the base of Joe’s neck, not squeezing, just resting there possessively.

There’s a soft moan that flutters through the air, and Jos _loves it._ He could get drunk off it. It’s fucking intoxicating, and he’ll never understand how that isn’t something that anyone would try their damned hardest to elicit. “Good. He doesn’t deserve to hear you. You’re so pretty. God, I want to wreck you, Joey,” he murmurs into Joe’s ear, as the younger slides his hands up Jos’ shirt, over his back.

 _“Fucking please,”_ Joe begs, stepping forwards, further into Jos’, wrapping his arms over the keeper’s shoulders. Jos braces a protective hand around him before turning them around and dropping Joe into the mattress, bracing himself above him, just out of reach. In a press-up movement, he gets himself close enough to run his tongue over Joe’s bottom lip.

“You taste like me. You taste like us. I haven’t even kissed you yet, and you taste like _us- perfect_ Joey, like strawberries and honey. You always taste so good. It’s so hard, not to kiss you all the time. When you wake up next to me, or when you stumble into the common room early mornings. When you show up at my room door late in the night because you woke up _needing me._ Fuck I love when you do that.”

Joe’s helpless to do anything but stare, because Jos above him like this, god he’s _beautiful._ And the way he’s talking, Joe’s enamoured.

“When you slip into my hotel rooms while we’re on tour, how I always give you my spare key because I know, without fail you’ll need it. I love waking up to you grinding against me, all needy, after you decided that you couldn’t do it yourself anymore, not in the way you needed. You tried so hard, these past two weeks, to keep yourself away from me. But now you just can’t help yourself, coming back from your boyfriend’s, still wanting me.”

“You’re too fucking good, everyone else sucks in comparison- _oh fuck there please use your teeth-_ it’s so hard to find anyone who makes me feel like you do. I don’t want anyone like I want-” Joe’s eyes widen and he looks away. Jos pecks his cheek in understanding, and the younger breathes out a sigh of release.

"How he didn’t want to kiss you, I’ll never know. I’m glad he didn’t. You deserve better.”

And then Jos’ mouth is on Joe’s, and it feels like it always does. _Fucking incredible._ Jos tilts his head back, and Joe follows so effortlessly, giving into the touch and the movement, trusting the keeper to do it _right. Jos’_ mouth is insistent, dominating, but so safe, and so familiar. The weight feels so good on top of him, pressed against him, with the last little remnants of Jos’ cologne from the night suffocating him, the sharp stubble that brushes his cheek. Joe can’t fucking think straight, but he knows that he wants Jos’ shirt off. _Now._ He tugs at it relentlessly, until the taller blonde steps back, and pulls it off.

_“Fuck me.”_

Jos scoffs, blushing slightly as he turns his face, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the plan. I’ll take care of you baby, I promise,” he says, voice thick and raspy and Joe just _wants_ so fucking bad. He makes grabby hands and grins when Jos laughs gently, obliging him. Joe leans up, placing a kiss to his lover’s chest, just where his heart would be.

The keeper tugs him to the edge of the bed, dropping gracefully to his knees on the floor, right between his thighs. With dextrous fingers, Jos undoes the button of the younger’s jeans, pulling them down his legs, inch by inch, kissing the skin as he goes.

Starting from the jut of Joe’s hipbone, diagonally across the expanse of his thigh, before biting sharply at the inner muscle. Joe fists his hands in the bedsheets and cries. Jos doesn’t relent, following down, continuing past his knee, mouthing softly at the tone of his calf, before pressing an unbelievably chaste kiss to his ankle, and discarding the material somewhere.

_“Fuck.”_

“What?”

“You’re naked, in my bed. How does anyone have you naked in their bed and then not want to put their mouth all over you, just to make you beg for them.” Jos trails his fingers up the younger boy’s calf, smirking softly as goosebumps arise under his touch. “How does anyone have you in their bed, and not want to wreck you and give you everything you want.” He steps back, admiring, raking his gaze over the younger boy _hungrily._

“You’re so pretty, daddy, you look so good like this. Fucking love your arms so much. No one compares.”

“Not even the girl you hooked up with two weeks ago?”

“God no. But I know you were with someone too. I didn’t really like her I just, wanted to get back at you. Still the same, blonde hair, blue eyes. But they weren’t as pretty as yours. I missed them.”

Jos smiles despite himself. Hearing Joe a room away with someone else, hurt like a fucking bitch. So he had brought back a distraction. It didn’t work.

“Not even your boyfriend?”

“He’s nothing like you. Blonde hair and blue eyes, yeah. But nothing like you.”

“Tell me,” he says, eyes making inescapable contact with Joe’s, as his hands work seductively at his belt, the sound of the clasp prompting the younger to release a shaky breath.

“Just. Wasn’t enough for me. Talked big game but he had no idea. You’re arrogant, but it’s for a good reason. You-”

Somehow, Joe’s managed to tear his eyes away from the keeper’s. Instead, he’s focusing on Jos’ hands as they undo the button of his jeans, and _oh god that’s_ hot.

“You just-” He lets his eyes wander, as Jos steps out of the denim, thighs flexing obviously and _oh gods that’s so hot. “He’s_ not you.”

“Of course, he’s not. If he was, he wouldn’t have let you leave unfucked, he wouldn’t have let you leave being able to walk straight. You weren’t limping when you came home. You should have been.”

“Jos _please-”_

“Tell me what you missed sweetheart,” Jos demands, as he presses his lips against the younger’s jugular, sighing softly against the flesh, hands moving to pin Joe’s wrists to the bed.

“I- I missed touching you. So hard and built but you’re so fucking careful with me. You always feel so good inside me. Fucking feel so full and no one fucking feels as good. I missed _you. Daddy, I wanna touch you, please-”_

Jos moves Joe’s hands so that the younger can have the muscle of his back between his fingers, smirking against the skin when the batsman lets out a content whimper.

“When he was fucking into you, were you thinking about me?” Jos asks, rolling his hips forward, eyes trained on Joe’s face, watching as the younger throws his head back desperately, hooking a leg up over him to feel _more. “_ About how I would be doing you better? How much better it feels when it’s me that you’re in bed with, letting you come all over four of my fingers before holding you down and fucking you til the bed shakes?”

“Th-the whole time. Just couldn’t focus on him. Kept thinking of you. Just, your arms, and your fingers, and your thighs, and your chest, always so good to me daddy, made me miss you even more, _fuck me please-”_

“Was he big enough for you? Or were you always going to come home and beg me to fuck you properly? Like you deserve? He was never going to be enough for you, was he?”

Joe whines, fucking his hips up, but Jos isn’t having it, and he pushes them back into the bed, holding them down with _ease. “_ N-no _oh god-_ not enough for me, you’ve fucked me too good for me to enjoy it with anyone else. Fucking felt like I was being used, wanted to come home so bad, regretted leaving home the minute I got to his place. Wanted to come home and have daddy fuck me in his bed.”

There are a lot of things about that, which have Jos faltering in his step. One, Joe admitting that Jos has ruined him for anyone else. Two, Joe calling Jos’ apartment _home, three times._ Three, ‘ _wanted daddy to fuck me in his bed.’_

“Not yet, baby. Can’t fuck you yet. Wouldn’t be right.”

 _“Why-”_ Joe wails, and Jos wants to give in so bad, but he made a promise to himself, that he was going to fix every mistake that was made tonight. So he opens his bedside drawer, and pulls out a bottle of lube with one hand, the other still pressing Joe into the mattress. He settles between the younger’s legs, pressing kisses to his shins as he coats his fingers generously.

A shattered cry escapes Joe’s throat as he lays back, just _watching_ , completely _mesmerised. Jos’_ hands know how to make their way over his body as though he’s an artist and Joe is his canvas. Just the idea of the keeper’s fingers in him, stretching him and fucking him wide open, making him beg for _more,_ has his hips jolting unconsciously.

“C-can I- can I _please-”_

Jos looks up at him, and everything he was going to say dies in his throat because _wow._ No matter how many times he’s been on the receiving end of one of Jos’ heated stares, they always drive shivers up his spine. Dark eyes, damp skin, plush lips. He’s _gorgeous._

“What do you want, beautiful? You can ask me for whatever you want, baby.”

“Can I play with your fingers?”

Jos gives him a thoughtful look, before extending a hand to him. Joe runs his finger from the base of the keeper’s palm to the tip of his middle finger, drawing invisible patterns across the skin with his nails. Jos’ hand flexes slightly, bones protruding sensually and Joe can’t help himself, as he flicks his tongue over them. Taking the cue, the keeper flexes his digits again, watching, utterly transfixed, as the younger’s tongue slips over his ring finger, before mouthing at the pulse point of his wrist.

“You like my hands that much sweetheart?” he asks, pressing his thumb against Joe’s lip.

And that seems to set the younger boy off, because before Jos can even move his hand, Joe’s _begging_ for him. “Jos- _Jos,_ fuck me please, _please,_ with your hands, fucking beautiful fingers, fuck me senseless _please-”_

The keeper pushes two fingers into Joe’s mouth, “god you’ve got such a _dirty mouth_ sweetheart, I never know whether to let you whine and cry and beg for me or to shut you up.”

Teasingly, Jos slips his index finger just lightly enough inside Joe. Just enough that the younger’s body lurches downward, clenching up tightly. And then the sensation is gone. The younger blonde chokes on his own breath, and Jos’ hand isn’t even around his neck yet. “ _Daddy-”_

“Patience love, I’ll treat you right,” Jos breathes, pressing the digits of one hand into Joe’s inner thigh while fucking Joe’s mouth with the fingers of the other.

Joe closes his eyes and presses his head back against the pillow, sobbing softly as Jos works his fingers into the marks he’d left behind with his teeth.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, are you ready for my hands, gorgeous?” He pulls his fingers from Joe’s mouth, smirking as the younger chases after them with his tongue.

“Been ready since I came home, please- _oh fuck-”_

Two long slender fingers push into him, and Joe’s lost for words, lost to the feeling as he rolls his hips against Jos’ hand.

And _this._ This is what Jos has been waiting for. Joe, sinfully innocent, looking absolutely fucking debauched under him, getting fucked _good._ He carefully pushes his right ring finger in beside the others, biting his lip as he realises, he’s forgotten to take off his ring. When his fingers are fully pressed into the younger, Joe _screams_ at the sensation.

“Oh fuck _me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me-”_

Jos strokes his fingers slowly, pushing deeper, watching intensely as Joe’s eyes roll back, mouth falling open for desperate cries to escape.

Jos wonders, again, how anyone would pass up the opportunity to have _this._ The most beautiful person to exist, naked and sweaty and wound up and _pleading._

“This is what I want to see sweetheart. This is how you should always feel. You don’t deserve any less than this. Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful. You sound so beautiful-”

“Better than that guy you had in your bed last week?”

Jos freezes slightly, gaze training back up Joe’s body to look into his eyes. “I didn’t-”

“Blue eyes. Chocolate hair. He’s a keeper or something too?”

“How did-”

“Do I sound better screaming for you?”

“God, of course, you do. Nobody compares to you, Joey. I love how wrecked your voice gets, I haven’t even done anything, and you sound broken. Choked little gasps of my name and _god_ my name sounds so much better when it’s falling from your beautiful mouth, _please kiss me, Joey, please-”_

Joe reaches up and weaves his fingers through the thick brown-blonde hair, tugging Jos down to kiss him deeply, gasping quietly in relief as Jos’ fingers push against him harder. “Fucking knew- could hear you, and him, missed you so fucking bad- I fucking hated it, your name sounded wrong falling from his mouth, he didn’t say anything about how fucking _good_ you are- should’ve been me screaming under you like that please fuck me, oh god let me scream for you-”

“Thinking about your grocery list, love?”

“What the fuck is a grocery list?” Joe breathes against his mouth, and Jos can’t help himself from laughing as he presses his lips to the younger’s affirmingly.

“Nothing you need to think about, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t be able to think about leaving the bed for _days, I’ll_ look after you gorgeous, grocery shopping included.”

Joe blushes despite himself, and Jos lives for it, the subtle, intimate moments they have like this, how easy it is. “Will you please-”

The keeper kisses his cheek and leans over to the side table, pulling out some protection. Joe’s hands are working faster than his brain, and they catch Jos’ wrists before the older blonde can tear the package open. “I don’t want you to- please no?”

“Sweetheart?”

“Just. Don’t? Only if you’re comfortable, of course. I just. Want to feel you. Is that okay?”

Jos braces himself above him, laying a soft hand at the side of his neck, kissing him very very slowly. “If that is what you want, I’m comfortable with it. I want you to be okay. You asked him to, and he almost didn’t, and I don’t want you to feel-”

“Please? Fuck me raw, I want-”

The choked moan from the keeper’s throat when those words fall from Joe’s mouth is _stunning._

“You sound like heaven. Fucking come _here.”_ And suddenly, it’s like Joe can’t get enough of Jos’ mouth. It’s desperate, and Joe’s fingers are digging into the muscle of his back, and Jos’ hands are clutching Joe’s hips, and Joe can feel the weight of Jos’ body against him, and it’s inebriating, but he can’t be fucked to care because he’s hooked on the feeling.

And when Jos pushes into him, slowly, Joe’s about done with how much he needs it, smoothing a hand over the keeper’s hipbone, before pulling him forward, letting out a strangled cry as he finally gets what he’s been wanting for _hours. “_ Joey- is that- is it too much, fucking hell baby please-”

Joe rolls his hips up filthily, head thrown back and abs clenching with each movement and fuck Jos is in _love_ and fuck he just _wants so bad._ He can feel how Joe’s clenching involuntarily around him, and the younger boy’s heartbeat, and the tremors across his skin and god it’s addicting, but he refuses to give in to it.

“Jos-” Joe’s tugging Jos ever closer, hand twisted in his hair tightly, and it hurts, but it’s the best kind because it means Joe’s _desperate_ and god that’s a fucking sight. “Jos please just let go, _please.”_

The whimper and the shortness of his breath and the way Joe chokes the words out from his chest don’t really give Jos a choice. He gives himself a moment, just to think, _to breathe,_ before slamming his hips forward roughly.

“Again- _please again please-”_

“Please _what,_ my angel, fucking gorgeous like this, absolutely divine.”

“Daddy _please,_ fuck me.”

Jos ducks his head down to tongue from Joe’s collarbone to jaw, before pushing his hips forward, over and over, harder and harder. Joe’s given up on clutching anything, content to be fucked up the bed, voice raw and throat abused, breaking on gasps of Jos’ name.

If he thought about it (which he does), he’d realise that they’re going to have matching bruises tomorrow, Jos’ hipbones aligning with the flesh of Joe’s thighs, and it’s almost enough to send Jos over the edge. But Joe hasn’t lost his voice yet, and even if he does look blissed out and euphoric, it’s not enough.

Jos fucks his hips forward again, more demanding, prompting Joe to let out a strangled moan. “You’re fucking horrible- please stop teasing me-”

“Don’t worry darling, I won’t leave you like this, I promise, I’ll keep you satisfied my darling.” Jos doesn’t seem to realise what he’s said, punctuating the words with a venomous thrust, working up to a rhythm that has both of them breathless. “Come on sweetheart-”

 _“Oh fuck-”_ Joe whines, as his legs tighten up, back arching flexibly as Jos’ hand wraps around his length and the keeper’s mouth attaches to the flesh just below his clavicle. “Jos-”

“Scream for me, my love.” It’s soft, and just inches away from the shell of Joe’s ear and it’s perfect because Jos has called him _his love,_ and it’s perfect. He lets out a broken cry of the keeper’s name, high and desperate, as he tightens his body around Jos.

It’s hot and wet and fucking _fantastic,_ and Joe’s eyes roll back with the pleasure of it, screaming Jos’ name as he comes, feeling Jos inside of him as the keeper falls over the edge. Joe’s out like a fucking light, and he doesn’t notice the way Jos shifts them so that he can bear Joe’s weight above him, and hold the younger tight to his chest like he always does.

He’s already fast asleep by the time Jos’ breathing returns to normal, and the keeper presses his head back against the headboard, squeezing his eyes shut as he swallows thickly.

Joe doesn’t feel how softly Jos’ hands move across his skin, using a fresh towel with warm water to clean over his body, or how they gracefully slip a sweatshirt and boxers over his bruised body, before carrying him to the couch so that the older blonde can change the sheets.

So when the younger wakes up in the morning, aching in all the right places, right next to Jos, (who’s managed to keep a respectful distance between them) in the keeper’s bed, dressed in Jos’ clothes, something inside him breaks.

Because Jos hasn’t left like he’s supposed to- probably because this is Jos’ apartment, but, that’s beside the point. (Jos _never_ leaves like he’s supposed to.)

Joe is slowly coming to the realisation, that he doesn’t _want_ Jos to leave anymore.

Steeling himself, he inches himself close to his _best friend,_ until he’s tucked himself right against Jos’ chest, and he can hear the keeper’s slow, rhythmic heartbeat. He presses a kiss, chaste and loving, to the corner of Jos’ mouth, smiling as his eyes flutter open.

Joe braces both hands under the older blonde’s chin before he can move away. “Am I really your love?”

“You always have been,” Jos replies, voice gravelly and hoarse, both from last night and from just waking up.

“I think. I think you might be mine,” Joe starts. But when the keeper’s hand soothes down his back and plays softly with the strands of his hair, and he feels the little glint of metal brush his scalp, he can’t help himself. “I-” He takes another breath, lifting his head to look into Jos’ eyes. “I _know_ you’re mine.” Jos smiles, and it’s too much, the younger blonde tucks his face into the keeper’s chest shyly because _fuck, he’s_ in love. But before he lets his eyes slip shut, tempted back into sleeping beside someone he adores- _no, loves,_ he says “Jos, can you- can you please take the ring off?”

“Oh. I mean, of course, but why?” Jos holds out his right hand, as Joe pulls the silver metal from his finger delicately and places it inside the drawer, away from sight.

“Because it’s not from me.” Joe lets out, as he settles back into Jos’ arms. “And if it’s not from me you shouldn’t be wearing it.”

“Oh.”

“I love you.”

This time, when Jos’ eyes close, he doesn’t have to dream about having Joe asleep in his arms or having Joe tell him those few words, because it’s real. He tightens his grip around the younger boy, and mutters, “I love you back. Thank you.”

“I promise I’ll get you that ring.”

“I know. I’ve waited almost all my life. I can wait a little longer.”

-

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Dear god, how did I never notice?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508523) by [j_obsessed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed)




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